


Feeling Good

by Thrace Addicted (Amidala_Thrace)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amidala_Thrace/pseuds/Thrace%20Addicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara's tone leaves no room for argument, and she draws her final weapon, though she understands it's unfair: her body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling Good

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene from the S4.5 episode "The Oath" and contains spoilers for that episode. Title comes from Nina Simone's song of the same name (though this is _not_ a songfic). Originally posted February 6, 2009.

She's gotten it on in a lot of strange situations during her life. Weird positions, public places and hell, even some bizarre partners. Washrooms, benches, bunks, and on one memorable occasion, the back of her truck parked in a Delphi alleyway.

But this — this, by _gods_, has to be the weirdest.

Distant gunfire sounds and she feels his thumbs hook into her tanks and lift them over her head. Yelling voices provide the soundtrack to which she fumbles with his belt, eliciting a moan from him as she brushes the bulge in front of his dress pants. Lee's still the same: adrenaline and combat turn them both on, even though he'd never admit it. Kara knows he'd prefer to take it slow, to explore every inch of her body and to ravish her the way he did on New Caprica, but they don't have time for that. Frak, they barely even have time for what they _are_ doing. It'll be quick and dirty, but gods, _Lords_, she needs this. Just like she needs the combat action.

He's saying, "Kara, _wait_ —" but she's pulling him with her already, and her rear smacks into the large barrels stacked behind her. There's a bang and a clatter and several of them wobble once or twice, wobble but don't fall.

At this Lee grabs her now-bare shoulders, effectively restraining her. She looks into his eyes and can't remember when she's ever seen such passion there, such _fire_. "Godsdamnit, Kara, what are we _doing?_"

She gropes for the dignified answer, simultaneously trailing hot fingertips past the bottom of his shirt to wrap around his length. "At the moment, Lee, we're getting ready to frak. You want me to draw you a schematic?"

"But — here —" He looks around helplessly, at the junk piled messily near them. "And now …" More gunfire in the distance.

"Yes here. _Now._" Kara's tone leaves no room for argument, and she draws her final weapon, though she understands it's unfair: her body. They both know he doesn't have a chance when she's pressed against him like that, trailing kisses and nips down his neck.

And suddenly, before she can even blink, he's taken control. She faces the barrels and his cock nudges her entrance and she's still trying to figure out how they got here, to this point, on a ship full of mutineers and suddenly unable to think about anything except getting into each other's pants.

_Well, I started this. Damned if I'm not going to see it through._

Kara rocks back against him, once, twice, and with a growl Lee arches sharply and fills her, just like that. It's easy, so easy, to slip back into the people they once were. Fighting together, strategizing together, frakking on the side. _Well, all of this has happened before and all of it will happen again, right?_

He slips out and back in, and right up against him she can feel him trembling, struggling to hold back the tide of emotions and desperation. But she needs his arms around her, _now_, so she scrabbles for them and finds them, pressing them to her breasts, tracing his fingers in circles around her nipples. It's not long before he takes over, before he pulls her towards him, before they're wrapped in each other and his bare, muscled skin touches her back — when did he take off his shirt? — but she doesn't care, suddenly it's just them. It takes her only another second to understand that it's _always_ been them, even when it wasn't.

"Kara," Lee whispers, "Kara, Kara, _gods_ …"

"Good idea, huh?" But she pants it rather than says it, so the impact is lost. And Kara doesn't really feel like bantering now; this is something much more personal, perhaps more personal than they have ever been.

She was wet as soon as he touched her, as soon as they'd kissed, so it's not long before she's fluttering around him and pushing against him, gasping his name as she always does, but this time she _can_. This time she doesn't have to bite her lip, doesn't have to clench down upon that impulse the way she sometimes did with Sam. More proof that Starbuck and Apollo belong together.

Lee clutches her, pressing his lips to the back of her neck, and gasps openly against her skin as he fills her with his own climax, and she thinks that when she said earlier, "Haven't felt this good in weeks," she was lying, because _now_ she feels it. _Now_ she feels the echoes of Starbuck, the person she used to be, and only now does the old fire run in her veins. Only now is she complete.

The clatter of machine guns interjects, and they stiffen like dogs that've scented a rabbit. There's still a battle going on, and they need to be a part of it.

"_Frak_," Lee mutters, and he abruptly pulls out and starts dressing in a flurry of single-minded movement behind her. "Frak, what the hell were we _thinking?_"

"We weren't," Kara replies, and laughs because it feels good.

"Yeah, you can say that again." He grabs his gun, slides the safety off, hurries to check around the corner. "I think they're still a couple halls away — if we go left and skirt the port airlock we should be able to avoid the worst of it."

"Right." She nods and starts off, but never without checking over her shoulder to make sure he's following, to make sure he's okay.

They're linked. Again. Together. Again.

And by gods does it feel good.


End file.
